Los Angeles

The image on the left is the new Pershing Square. It was a little different looking when I was first there in the early sixties. Setting in the heart of downtown Los Angeles when I first stumbled upon it. It is, I suppose, what I think of when I think of Piccadilly Circus in London. A lot of sidewalk preachers, and other spouting off their beliefs to those within earshot. Pershing Square was kind of an eyesore for some and a movement stayed current to get rid of it, because it attracted undesirables. But I think the police actually wanted it that way, because it kept certain people isolated. The pickpockets, the hustlers of flesh, both the female and male variety. There was a bit of drug trade going on also, but nothing like it would be in a few years when the counterculture movement caught on. No, when I first found Pershing Square it was just a place for people, mostly street people, to hang out.

Chapter 35 has me arriving in Los Angeles, running from the situation back in Shreveport, Louisiana. My first foray into leaving something I didn't want instead of staying and working it out. Over the years I developed a little joke about my rambling, a rambling that even Hank Williams would have been proud of. I would say, I don't bar hop, I state hop. Yeah, I know. Corney. I met Mavis the first of second day in Pershing Square. A middle-aged, slightly plump matronly sex manic. She took me home with her, fed me, gave me whiskey and her body. I was young and full of cum in those days and even the unattractive body of Mavis did not deter me. It was the beginning of an on and off sexual relationship with older women for money. They just seemed to find me, the few times I tried to hustle them it almost always turned out bad.

After Mavis was tired of me, and they all tired of me, that was their nature, they wanted variety, she slipped me some money and I caught the bus for San Francisco. I'd been hearing what a party town it was. San Francisco is a party town, but I didn't have a chance to find out how much it was because I was busted on the very first day I arrived. After spending about two week in the San Francisco County jail I was flown, handcuffed, back to Dallas, Texas, where I was met by a couple of Shreveport detectives and driven to the Caddo Parish jail.

My Novels:

Write To Murder . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/956621

Margaret and David: A Love Story . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/1072842

My Mother's Revenge . . . http://www.lulu.com/content/1132742